Deadlines

(for Johnathan)

The crust of calm
hides the roiling anger beneath
until a weakened crack
erupts it in volcano suddenness.
Wrath fed by fear,
the terror of being hunted,
hunted by intangibles.
The yammering demands
each one a barb
a hook to drag you one inch closer
to the chasm
the devouring maw that waits
that creeps silently closer
as the sands of each second
drain away.

The thin curtain of niceties
disguises the sucking desperation
that leaches away contentedness,
turning pleasures into mere distractions,
stolen away from the dragon of time.
No time, no time to let it be.
Time, once a friend,
is become the enemy.